


Snow Globe

by fckdanielhowell



Category: Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Awkward Flirting, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Enemies to Lovers, Flirting, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Mutual Pining, Pet Store, Pining, Slow Burn, University
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-12
Updated: 2021-03-12
Packaged: 2021-03-18 20:14:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,121
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29988231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fckdanielhowell/pseuds/fckdanielhowell
Summary: George flies to study in Florida, taking residency with a strange woman and her even stranger son, on one condition - he helps with the pet shop.or, petshop au where dreams just a bit too much of an arrogant prick for george's likings.
Relationships: Clay | Dream & GeorgeNotFound & Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream & GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 5
Kudos: 11





	Snow Globe

If there’s one thing George never thought he’d want to do, it would be flying. Though the idea of visiting new countries - exploring cultures and cities he can only seem to dream of - is appealing, giant metal contraptions which are, arguably, just glorified gambling machines of life, is not something that George is entirely fond of.

Especially when a gentle  _ pitter-patter  _ of rain barely manages to seep through the assumed sound-proof windows that stare across oceans and into oblivion. Especially when all George can do whilst dosed up on Xanax is stare forebodingly at his university flyer. If he’d have simply listened to his parents and stayed in Brighton, he wouldn’t be on this death trap. He wouldn’t be zoning in and out of consciousness as the plane does a, quite unnecessary might he add, loop around the clouds. Maybe he wouldn’t have chosen the first place that offered to house him during his six month studies.

But George is far from compliant, and the concept of giving his father a miniature heart attack by announcing his departure from England to join a shitty school in the middle of fuck-all-Florida was far too great of an achievement to pass up. He can only pray to all Heavens above that he’s not going to regret this now. He can’t regret this now.

A wave of relief George isn’t quite sure he’s ever experienced before floods his brain as the pilot announces their arrival over the static intercom system. The quiet whistling of comfort songs that once plagued the nearby passengers replaces itself with an obnoxious sort of drumming across his knees.  _ Half an hour until arrival. Try to calm down. _

__ George doesn’t calm down. Apparently drifting down a runway at approximately 165 miles per hour isn’t as relaxing as one might think. The armrests leave small rope burns on the insides of George’s hands, his knuckles lay white. The term ‘cold sweat’ seems a bit of an understatement as the Atlantic simply gulps at the sight of George. Maybe this is the end, maybe he’ll become part of the 49% of plane casualties per year that crash on landing - maybe airport  _ WHSmith _ ’s shouldn’t be selling  _ 101 Fascinating Facts to Learn About Aviation.  _

The only thing keeping George remotely sane as his head spindles off the edge of numerous cliffs is his application letter. Somehow planning out exactly what he’ll do when the time comes to depart the aluminium cage of fatality is a comfort of sorts. Perhaps it’s the Xanax finally kicking in after the 12 hour flight, or the bounds of dust he’s undoubtedly snorted throughout the journey, but the concept of mulling over his living situation is much more appealing than staying within the present.

His eyes glance sporadically across the tiny piece of paper, flying around gently upon his lap. It’s nothing more than an address and phone number, yet George can’t help but overthink to death what exactly the house could entail. According to the, admittedly shady, student accommodation website, an older Floridian mother was willing to rent out the room above her business for next to nothing if George was willing to help out downstairs occasionally. As a broke university student with nothing more than a few thousand saved up throughout his years of working a minimum wage job at his local postie, this offer was perfect. Almost definitely a scam, yes - but perfect.

Soon enough, the plane comes to a halt and passengers in George’s class are allowed to exit. Throughout his years alive, George has never seen such beauty within the airport’s sickeningly white walls. Never have the grey stained windows radiated light so elegantly. Never has he wanted to take the floor out for dinner and marry it. Gratitude can’t even begin to define the utter relief that envelopes George as his trainers hesitantly touch the monochrome airport flooring. 

“Oh, sweet Jesus.” He mumbles softly, legs shaking as they take him towards baggage claim. The concept of airports is a shit concept to George. Why does it almost take longer to get through security than the original plane ride? Why do so many people blindly put their trust into floating tins? Why - haven’t George’s bags come down the carousel yet? 

Apparently, the only thing more powerful than George’s disdain for airports, is his disdain for losing luggage. His hands reach slowly to his face, rubbing at his temples as he groans lowly. At this stage he’d be lucky to find out the woman he’s leasing from is a murderer. At least if that were the case, George wouldn’t have to spend any more time bothering members of staff about issues out of his control.

Soon enough, the concept of staying in the airport becomes too much of an overpoweringly negative shit show of a thought. Even with the ulterior being driving thirty minutes in a stuffy taxi during the peak of Summer in bloody Florida of all places, to see whether or not his new humble abode could be considered a place H.H. Holmes would feel giddiness at. Perhaps George is a cynic, perhaps he’s just riddled with anxiety. All he knows is he needs to get out of here.

When his friends had come to Florida for family holidays throughout his youth, they’d always come back to tell stories on how the sun shone perfectly throughout the horizon, how they’d never experienced such incredible food and amusement wrapped up into a single environment. George’s expectations for this destination, though previously high at one point or another, crumble to that of shards as he leaves the looming building with only his carry-on luggage, and a nearby car drives over a dirt water puddle, not even remotely apologetic when, in its wake, George is left splashed by the driver. He wants to cry. 

Throughout the jetlag, sweat sticking his hair to his scalp, his soaked clothes and lack of items, George struggles to see any positives about this experience at all. He could call his mum now, explain his predicament, spend an extra £500 to say he got to the Floridian airport and decided it was too much of a fuss before heading back home. He could easily turn back now, and yet some nagging part of his stupid little brain wont let him.

And so, with about the sense of drunken sailor, George spends half an hour flagging down a taxi before heading over to the address scribbled messily upon a bright blue post-it note. He’s come too far to turn back now, as much as he wants to. George has dealt with far worse in the past. He can handle lost luggage, he can handle shady addresses. George can handle this.

**Author's Note:**

> helloo!! welcome to snow globe! i promise u it will actually get good ik the first chapter isnt the Best but just u wait hfsdjkh i hope u enjoyed it none the less though !! i have a lot of ideas on where this ff could go trust me trust me if u wanna check out any of my other works to see if u like my writing style enough to continue on - check out honey and lime :D its a dnp fanfic i know i know but its alright i think hfjksd anywho! hope you all have an incredible time period, i love u all so so much mwah :D


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